


Peaches and mangos

by fruitpunchkickstart



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25827343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitpunchkickstart/pseuds/fruitpunchkickstart
Summary: Peach and mango trees don’t grow near each other, but you wish that they did
Relationships: 707 | Choi Luciel & Reader, 707 | Choi Luciel/Main Character, 707 | Choi Luciel/Reader
Kudos: 45





	Peaches and mangos

“Saeyoung~~” you whined. “I’m cold . . .” 

“Well come here then!” He raised his arm to open the blanket. You gladly accepted his invitation and curled up beside him. His arm snaked under your head and rested behind you back. Your head rested on his chest, you arm draped across his stomach. Despite the fact his arm would fall asleep and your neck would hurt, this was both of your favorite position to sleep in. The rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you to leep, and he relished in feeling your slowed breathing. He radiated warmth, which perfectly paired with you as you’re always cold. You played with his fingers in the meantime, both of you just wishing to bask in each other’s presence. 

“If you were a fruit, you’d be a mango” you stated matter of factly.

“Hmm . . . you’d definitely be a peach.” He replied. This is a game you played often, if you could even call it a game. Throughout your time together, you’ve labeled each other as too many inanimate objects to count. Even though it's silly, it makes you smile. Now whenever you see a mango or a peach, you can be reminded of this sweet moment. The sound disrupts you.

“God, my parents are so loud . . .” You mutter.

“. . . What are you talking about?”

“Ah. Nothing.” His question is left unanswered. You feel the pinprick of tears behind your eyes. You know why it's there. 

You notice the song playing in the background has switched. It's Fly Me To the Moon. A smile plays across your lips as you remember dancing to this very song earlier in the day. You were in the kitchen, sunlight streaming through the window. You weren’t that good at dancing, but it's okay, because he isn’t either. Your socks glided over the linoleum floor. Silence was common among the two of you, but it wasn’t the awkward type of silence. Moreso that you both knew words could never grasp what you wanted to articulate and in the end, would only get in the way. 

This was one of those instances. You just wanted to drink it all in. The music. His arm around your waist. Your face in his neck. The smell of his laundry detergent. The soft cotton of his shirt. Even the way you fumbled over each other and how he stepped on your toes. Because even though it wasn’t perfect, he was there. Breathing, living, beside you. You wished that you could stay there forever. You feel sad. You know why.

“I like looking at the sky.” His voice pulls you from your memory.

“Yeah?”

“It’s just, always so beautiful. Night or day.” You nodded slightly to agree, careful not to disturb the blissful position you’re in.

“I get what you mean, but for me, it isn’t even about beauty necessarily. Sometimes the sky is that solid, ugly, gray color. But even on those days, the sky gives me comfort.” You reply. 

“It grounds you.”

“Yeah. It grounds me.” 

You’re both quiet after that. You sit together. In your silence. This is another moment you wish to capture. If your mind were a camera, it would be rolling. In fact, you desperately wished you  _ could _ encapsulate this on film. But movies couldn’t capture the soft fluffy blankets. Or the deepness in his eyes as he gazes at you. It couldn’t capture the feeling of his skin beneath your fingertips. Despite that, every moment with him did feel like a movie. In the same way that movies have romanticised plots, and filters that get the colors just right. 

“Do you think we can continue like this?” He broke your silence.

“. . . No” Your tears were hot as they spilled down your cheeks. Even though you were crying, your face remained still, your breathing calm. 

_ In other words, _

“I wish that mango and peach trees grew near each other.” His voice was barely above a whisper. 

_ Please be true. _

“Me too.” 

_ In other words, _

His warmth disappeared beside you as you were pulled from your fantasy. Even though he doesn’t exist in your universe, his love for you was strong enough for you to feel it. You can only hope he knows you love him back.

_ I love you.  _

  
  



End file.
